Eyes
by love4funny
Summary: Eyes...they can be the windows to the soul, but for Connor, they can also be the beginning of a beautiful nightmare.
1. Days Like This

Title: Eyes

Plot: Eyes…They can be the windows to the soul. But, for Connor, they can also be the beginning of a beautiful nightmare.

"You're late," Lester grumbled, his beady eyes narrowing at us as he spoke. I shrugged.

It wasn't like I cared what he said. He was lucky, he got to stay tucked up in his little office all day. He could very easily go back to sleep any time he wanted. Unlike the rest of us who had to have days like this.

Days like this where we were woken at 3 in the morning by a beeping anomaly detector. Days like this where we had no idea whatsoever what time we would be home.

A slight smirk came across his face. "Well, you ought to care, Mr. Temple," he said, as if he was reading my mind. "It may come in handy."

I started to say something, until Abby stopped me. She touched my forearm lightly, shaking her head at me once she glanced over and noticed the annoyed look on my face.

She knew me too well. Just by hearing what someone said to me, she would already know my reaction, sometimes even before I did.

"Come on," she said softly, wrapping her arm around mine as we continued down the corridor.


	2. Tricks

As soon as we pushed open the doors and walked into the main operations room, which was considered to be the heart of the Anomaly Research Centre, all conversation came to an end.

Danny and Becker, both displaying the exact same posture as they leaned against the wall, exchanged a knowing look.

"There they are," Danny said loudly, as if announcing it, chuckling as he walked over and patted me on the back.

I gave a nervous laugh, glancing over at Abby. She shook her head, trying her best to look amused, even though I recognised the well-hidden annoyance in her eyes.

She couldn't hide anything from me anymore, just like I couldn't hide anything from her anymore. We knew each other too well now, we had learned each other's tricks.

Her trick was easy to see, now that I was privy to it. No matter what expression she had displayed on her face, her real expression was always there- in those blue eyes of hers.

Those blue eyes in which you could find every possible shade of blue, from the lightest robin's egg to the darkest, deepest navy. Those blue eyes that could do a lot of the same things that words could. They could plead with you, they could make you feel guilty, and, most of all, they could draw you in, interest you.

"Here we are," I echoed, looking around the room at the people around me, all choking back a laugh.

Danny brought his hands together in front of him. "Right," he said. "Now…let's get down to business, shall we?"


	3. Grade School

I knew I should've been paying attention to what Danny was saying. This was, after all, mainly for Abby and me. For everyone else, this was just a review. They had heard it all before.

It wasn't technically that I didn't want to pay attention. It was just that Danny seemed to have this horrible tendency to repeat himself.

And it wasn't lie what he was telling us was extremely complicated to remember.

There was another anomaly, well, of course there was, there always was. And when there wasn't, we were busy preparing for the next one that came along.

This time, it had opened in a garage in central London. Only one witness, far as we knew, but it was, according to Danny, 'just a matter of time' before people started needing to go to work, and, you guessed it, park in the garage directly below.

And that was basically…it. He had managed to fill up ten minutes explaining something that, to me, seemed perfectly simple.

I could see Abby out of the corner of my eye, perched on the corner of a table, concentrating on picking off her nail polish as if her life depended on it.

Danny paused for a moment, looking around to find that no one was listening to what he was saying.

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of us. "Were either of you just listening to me?"

I watched Abby start to shake her head before catching herself, even though Danny seemed not to notice. "That's what I thought," he said, trying to look around as though it didn't bother him. But he knew it did.

I raised my hand sheepishly, as if I was in grade school all over again and had to wait for the teacher to call on me to speak.

"Yes, Connor?" he asked, already looking annoyed. I hadn't even said anything yet.

"I was listening," I said quietly. Abby glanced up from her nails and laughed, more at the fact that she thought I was such an idiot than anything else.

"Oh, really?" Danny asked, crossing his arms expectantly in front of him. I nodded. "Mmhmm."

He started chuckling, along with everyone else. "Then what did I just say?" His face grew serious again.

The room around me got quiet. I laughed. They honestly thought I didn't know.

"You just asked if we were listening."


	4. Rise and Shine

I had never much liked having to go in the truck. It was mainly because of the seating arrangement.

Somehow, I always managed to end up in the back seat. And I could never think of why.

I mean, today, I could understand why. Abby and I had walked in close to 20 minutes after everyone else, we were in no position to be making demands.

So now, we sat here, in the back seat with Becker next to us (oh, goodie).

Abby was as close to me as our seatbelts would allow. As far as I was concerned, she didn't need a reason. But still, she had one prepared.

Danny never made any attempt to drive carefully, that was for certain, and she didn't want to end up falling helplessly on top of Becker.

The two of them didn't get on well, and it wasn't exactly hard to see why.

Even if Abby hadn't told me herself she didn't like him (one of the few times we were actually talking about work), I still would've been able to tell.

She thought he was too stubborn, and too full of himself to ever admit it if he happened to be wrong about something.

And, personally, I think that this is exactly why they were almost constantly arguing.

They were both too much alike, Abby and Becker. She was every bit as stubborn as he was, and she wouldn't, couldn't take no for an answer. Ever. She could never keep her thoughts to herself, she always spoke her mind.

They clashed. There were too many similarities, too much that they had in common. And it would take all of forever to go all the way down the list. So you know what? I'm not going to.

It was still dark outside, which only made us all even drowsier than we already were.

Abby was all but asleep next to me. She had her head resting on my shoulder, and her eyes were closed, but I could tell by her unsteady breathing that she was awake.

I had to keep my arm around her to keep her from slipping and sliding as Danny turned corners.

We received a few smiles and snickers from everyone else, mostly from Danny, watching us in the rearview mirror, and Becker, who was supposed to be 'supervising' Abby and me in the back seat.

All things considered, his presence wasn't really necessary. I mean, I understood that he was supposed to make sure we 'behaved ourselves' back here. But what exactly were they expecting us to do in the back seat of a government vehicle?

Wait- no, let me rephrase that. What exactly were they expecting us to do in the back seat of a government vehicle with the three of them watching our every move?

"Rise and shine," I heard Danny call from the front seat.

I guess I had ended up falling asleep as well. I opened my eyes weakly as I felt the truck grow completely still. I looked up, Danny had cut the engine off. Yep, that would definitely explain it.

"Let's go, you two," he said, with more of an annoyed tone to his voice, as soon as he heard Abby and I mumble our own little complaints under our breath.

Then I heard two more car doors slam closed behind him.


	5. Part of the Job

"So where exactly is this witness?" Danny asked, sounding a bit like Lester as he talked to no one in particular.

I shrugged. I could see the anomaly, clear as day in front of me. But there was no one around, well, except for us, of course, and hardly any cars. "Dunno."

I took a few steps forward, making a wide circle around the anomaly. I felt my eyes widen as I realised exactly where our witness had gone. "Um…" I gulped, thinking about what we were going to have to do. But then again, it was all a part of the job. "Guys? I think you may want to have a look at this."


	6. Deep Breath

I'd always thought it to be humorous that we kept a whole arsenal of weapons with us at all times.

From a distance, all of the ARC's vehicles- even the biggest, most protrusive ones- seemed to be at least relatively normal. But as you got closer, you would begin to catch sight of guns- close to every kind imaginable, from the smallest, lightest pistol to the most obvious machine gun.

"Connor," Becker sighed, reaching into the back of the truck and, reluctantly, handing me a pistol. "Try and be careful, would you?" he snapped.

I tucked it quickly into the pocket of my trousers, grinning as I brought my hand up to my forehead in a military salute. He scowled at me.

Abby shook her head, smacking me on the arm. "That's not funny," she mumbled, laughing despite herself.

I glanced back at the mess of things that lay scattered across the floor in front of me. Among its contents: lipsticks of various shades, a tube of mascara (I knew that by having looked through Abby's bag on numerous occasions), and a wallet.

A wallet that presumably belonged to a Charlotte Potter.

We, as a whole, had come to the conclusion that the stuff had simply fallen out of her bag. Yes, that's perfectly normal, it had simply fallen out of her bag- as she stepped curiously through the anomaly.

"Alright," I heard Danny say to himself, taking a deep breath.

I found myself doing the same as I stepped through the anomaly.


	7. Calendars

At first, I thought this was just some sort of mistake, that there really could be such a thing as a fluke anomaly, one that led you nowhere but a different street or the building next door.

We were still in the same central London garage. Nothing had changed.

I looked around at the others, they looked just as confused as I did.

And then, I noticed the cars. There were more of them, almost every parking space was filled. And the cars themselves, they were smaller, sleeker, more advanced.

"Weren't we just here?" I heard Abby ask. She didn't address anyone in particular, which left me feeling free to answer her. "The future."

She looked at me curiously. "The future?" she repeated. "How do you know?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe because of that." I pointed to a nearby car, where a calendar sat in the back seat. The open page read 'March 2018'.

"Well, how do you know it's the right year?" she asked, walking over to the car and leaning back against the side of it.

"How many people do you know that keep a wrong calendar in the back of their car?"

She laughed. "Who would keep a calendar in the back of their car?"


	8. Mirror Image

"I'm afraid we're going to have to split up," Danny said, looking at each of us as he spoke. "We're not trying to take our time. We just want to get in, find our witness-"

"Charlotte," I interrupted, ignoring the looks I got from everyone else.

"Yes, thank you, Connor," he told me, chuckling before continuing. "Find Charlotte, and get out."

He sighed. "Alright, Connor, you're with me," he decided. "Abby, Sarah, you're going to have to go with Becker."

"But-" I began, before Danny cut me off with a wave of his hand.

He checked his watch. "Alright, we'll meet back here in…an hour, either with or without her."

And then we split into two groups, and that was that. They went left, we went right.

We were never split up, it just didn't happen. And, even though I understood the reasoning behind it (Sarah and Becker just barely got on, they would probably be too busy arguing to actually get anywhere), I was still not at all enjoying the situation.

"You're missing her already, aren't you?" Danny asked me. I guess he had noticed my unusual silence.

I glanced over at him to see an infuriating grin on his face. "If I said no, would you believe me?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "Should I?" he asked, his grin growing wider and even more frustrating.

I shook my head, staring blankly ahead. "No, probably not," I admitted.

I remembered the gun in my pocket, pulling it out and jokingly pointing it at Danny. "I feel like James Bond," I told him.

He laughed. "And you look like him, too," he said, his dry sarcasm more than obvious.

"Oh, come on," I said, giving him a light punch on the arm. "You must admit there are a few similarities."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, not looking at me as we turned a corner. "Like what?"

I got my hand out, ready to count all the ways we were alike. "Well, James Bond-. He's good looking," I said, holding out one finger.

Danny threw his head back and laughed. I loved how this was so amusing to him. "And he's got a gun…" Two fingers now. "And he's irresistible to women." I grinned proudly.

"Any more?" Danny asked, his face red form laughing too hard.

I shook my head. "Nope, I don't think so." He chuckled again. "You agree, don't-"

"Who are you?" a tiny voice said from behind us. "And why have you got those guns?"

I turned around to see a kid. A little boy, around 6 or 7.

I looked at him for a while, he looked so…familiar. "What? Why are you staring at me?"

And then I saw him. I mean, really saw him. His face, the colour of his hair, the shape of his eyes, they all were a perfect reflection of my face, my hair, my eyes. He was my mirror image.

But those eyes. The colour of them-they were too blue, they ran through every possible shade, from the lightest robin's egg to the darkest, deepest navy.

"Oh my god." Those were Abby's eyes.


	9. Forgotten

"What?" Danny watched me, wide-eyed, a look of concern on his face. "Connor, what is it?"

I couldn't tell him. I knew the answer to his question, I just couldn't bring myself to say it. To actually speak those words that were screaming inside my head. This was Abby's and my son. Abby and I have a son.

When had this happened? It had to have been sometime soon, he wasn't exactly a toddler, and it was only eight years from now.

It hadn't happened already. I knew that for sure. I definitely would've remembered that.

"Connor, are you going to tell me what's going on?" Danny asked, his tone slightly more exasperated now.

"Just look at him, Danny," I said softly, my voice coming out as more of a squeak than I had intended.

He shook his head, obviously not understanding what I was going on about. "What?"

I chose to ignore him, bending down to look (Christ, I was never going to be able to get used to this) my son in the eye.

"Hey," I said to him, softly, as if trying not to scare him, or maybe even myself. A nervous smile unknowingly made its way across my face.

He began to pout like little kids always did when they were irritated. "My mum told me not to talk to strangers." Of course she had.

I laughed. "See, but I'm not a stranger," I said. Oh my god, I sounded like a pedophile.

His face didn't change. He wasn't buying it. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah. What's your name?" I tried, not the least bit expecting him to answer me.

"Nick," he replied. He was smiling now, I guess he liked me.

"And-and how old are you?" I asked him, already dreading the answer. At least it would give me some idea of when it-he-had happened, more or less.

"I'll be eight in two months," he answered cheerfully, grinning to show two or three missing teeth.

Yep, that would be just about right. His birthday was in May. And May minus nine months was August. Right. And it just so happened to be the 31st of July. Of course.

"Um," I started. I really didn't want to ask the next question. But I knew it was necessary, I had to be sure. "Nick…" He smiled back at me. "Your-your mum-what's her name?"

Nick tilted his head, looking curiously at me. "Why do you want to know about my mum?"

I stammered, scrambling around in my head looking for a suitable answer. "I'm-uh-I'm an old friend…of your mum's. Has-um-has she ever mentioned a…a Connor?"

His face grew sad, his lips turned into a frown. "My daddy's name was Connor."

I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me. Danny. He finally understood.

Then I processed what he'd just said. And a thought of panic and horror struck me. "Was?" What-what do you mean 'was'? What happened to him?"

He shrugged, kicking the ground with the front of his shoes. Converse. Cute. "I don't know."

I gently placed my hands on either side of his shoulders. "Please, Nick, you have to tell me. What happened to him?"

There was a ring behind me. Danny's mobile. I could hear him talking, I didn't care what he was saying.

I had to know what had happened to me, where I had gone. I didn't leave, I would never leave, not by my own choice, anyway. I couldn't leave Abby regardless, much less with our son.

Had I died? No, I couldn't have died…could I? Could the same thing have happened to me that Cutter, until the day he died, claimed had happened to a woman named Claudia Brown? Would I just be forgotten?

His eyes grew wide. Funny how they reflected mine.

"Connor, we have to go," Danny said matter-of-factly, like today was just business as usual. Well, no it bloody wasn't. "What? No, we-we can't go."

He sighed. "Connor, they found her. They found Charlotte. We have to go."

I shook my head. "No-no, we-we can't go," I repeated. "I-I have to stay here. I-I have to find out. I have to know."

"Connor-" "Just wait, okay?" I snapped, turning back to Nick. "Please-you have to tell me."

He glanced at me, then looked back at me. "I don't know. My mum wouldn't tell me."

"Why-why wouldn't she? Why wouldn't Abby tell you?"

His brow furrowed in frustration. "Why do you care so much?" His features relaxed, his whole face lit up. "Are-are you my daddy?"

I was forced to lie, to shake my head and say, "No. No, I'm not." "But you look like-" "I'm not!"

His face faded, he brought his hands back to his sides from where he had been reaching out to touch me. "Sorry," he whimpered.

I shook my head. "No. No, it's okay-" "Connor…" Danny said again, more impatiently this time. I ignored him. "Just-just tell me…Why wouldn't she tell you?"

He couldn't answer me. He didn't get a chance to. He tried, he was going to answer me.

But I'm sure I was asking the same question, over and over, as Danny dragged me away from him.


	10. Mute

A big thank you to bluebunny1996 for getting me started with this one again! I guess since you asked for it, I have to give it you now, right? ;)

* * *

I now knew what it must feel like to be mute. You hear, and you see, everything going on around you, but you don't really take it all in. You don't even try to, you don't see the point in it. Because the things that you want to say the most, that you want to stand on a rooftop and scream at the top of your lungs, are the same things that you know can never come out, that you'll never be able to actually say, no matter how badly you want to.

I could hear and see everyone at the ARC, looking concerned as they passed by me, talking amongst themselves about what it may be that was wrong with me.

And I noticed that Abby jumped to my defence every time, telling them all to shut up and saying that if I'd wanted them all to know, then I would've told them myself.

I had moved from room to room for the few minutes we had to stay there before we were all able to go home, managing to avoid any one who actually mattered, who actually cared.

Abby was forced to come and find me when we could finally leave. She hadn't said anything, except for a soft, warm "Come on, Connor." She had taken me by the arm and we had walked, too silently, out of the ARC and to her car.

We hadn't talked in the car either, except for the occasional "Is that alright?" as she adjusted the A/C to get it just right.

She understood, all too well, that I didn't feel like talking about whatever was on my mind. And it was taking its toll on her, I could tell.

She wasn't her usual, energetic self, it seemed to me like my silence was draining her.

I hadn't said anything to her, I couldn't. Even when she came into my room.

It hadn't been for anything necessarily important, she had just come up to tell me that she was going to have a shower.

There was no answer from me, of course. I wanted to say something, really I did. I wanted to have some comment when she sat down next to me on the bed, when she started to say something then stopped herself, and, most of all, when she just offered me an apologetic smile and left.

I could hear the water running, even from all the way up here. Hell, the flat was so quiet, I could probably hear a pin drop if I really wanted to.

It was no longer filled with the sounds that normally brought it to life. Abby and I would usually be downstairs right now, either watching tellie or, even more likely, just listening to music.

We would be laughing, talking about nothing, I would probably be telling some awful story, and she, again, would be laughing.

We could be talking right now, and we should've been, but we weren't.

I knew that it was primarily my fault, that it was me who was choosing, for the moment, not to tell Abby.

It wasn't that I didn't want to, it's just that every time I had made up my mind either one way or the other, there was that little voice in my head trying to talk me out of it.

And it wasn't exactly something you could bring up casually in conversation. 'Hey, guess what? I found out today that we have a son.'

Just thinking about it made my head hurt. No, nor hurt. Spin.

Christ, she was coming back. I heard her shut the water off a while ago, she turned off her hairdryer a few minutes later. So I figured, or more like hoped, that she wouldn't come up here again. Guess I was wrong.

The sound of her footsteps seemed to reverberate, they got louder and louder.

She appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide, almost like she was afraid of me.

She walked slowly over to where I was sitting, she sat gingerly next to me.

"So…are you going to tell me what's wrong?"


	11. Seeing

I couldn't answer her. I wanted to, really I did. But I knew that, if I did, it would just make it that much easier for the wrong thing to slip out.

"Connor?" I had to keep my head down, my eyes focused on the ground.

She sighed. "Right. So…I'm guessing you're not going to…"

"I want to," I managed to choke out, still not able to look at her.

She brought her hand up to run it through my hair, softly, an attempt to comfort me. "Then why can't you?"

God. She looked, not to mention sounded, so worried.

I shook my head. "I can't." She looked so confused. "Why, Con?"

I found myself wishing that this was under different circumstances, where I could laugh, where I could at least smile at the old nickname. She hadn't called me 'Con' in ages.

"I just-. I don't-." No. I stopped myself. I couldn't finish my sentence, even though it was obvious, my mind screamed it at me. I just don't want you to end up acting like me. "Abby, I can't. I-I'm sorry."

She moved her hand, detangled it from my knotted hair. "Is it something you've done?"

"No, Abby. You-You haven't done anything," I said to her. "It's-It isn't you." "What is it, then?"

I took a deep breath. "Abby, I can't." "Is it-Did something happen when you were with Danny?"

I closed my eyes, and realised that there was no real point in trying to hide it from her. She wasn't stupid, she could tell when something was wrong. "What is it, Connor? What's happened?" She rubbed my back as she tilted her head to look at me, trying to make eye contact with me.

"Abby-um-today, I-um-I saw something," I said softly, slowly.

She stared at me, intently, a look of complete and utter confusion on her face. She didn't say anything, she knew I could, and would, finish any time I liked.

"Um- I saw someone…" Her brow furrowed in frustration. "Who, Connor?"

I had to look back down at my feet. I had been looking at her before, but I couldn't now, I couldn't look into those eyes. "Abby, you have a son."


	12. Me

She stared blankly at me. "I have a son?" She repeated me. "You saw him?"

I nodded. "Yeah, Abby, I did," I answered softly. "Eight years from now, you're going to have a son."

I watched her for a reaction. She shook her head, as if my answer wasn't good enough. "Well, do you know who the father is?"

I answered solemnly. "Yes, Abby, I do." Her eyes grew wide. "So who is it?" She sounded almost scared to hear my answer.

"He-um- he said…" I had to take a deep breath, prepare. "Who, Connor?"

"He said it was me."


	13. Happy

"Abby, please…say something."

She just sat there, unmoving, looking down at the ground. Her eyes, usually so warm and bright, were cold and dull as they filled up with tears.

"Abby-" "How do you know?" she asked, her voice, shaky and unstable, barely audible even though she sat right next to me.

"Because-because he told me," I said quietly. It was like she didn't believe me, like she thought I would actually try and lie about something like this.

"How old is he?" she asked. She was talking fast, as if she only had a limited amount of time left to talk to me. "He's-um- he's seven," I said matter-of-factly, my voice and face void of any expression whatsoever.

I wanted, desperately wanted, to be able to be happy about this, to be able to look forward to it.

And it wasn't as if I had no reason to be happy. All I had ever wanted from Abby, ever since I had first met her, that day in the woods, was to be…more. More than friends, more than coworkers, more than flat mates.

I had gotten what I wanted, and I couldn't even be happy about it.

Because if Abby wasn't happy, I couldn't, wouldn't, didn't want to be happy.

She looked up at me, I had to force myself to look into her eyes.

"So it must've happened sometime soon then, yeah?" she asked quietly. I recognised the strain in her voice, like she was trying too hard to sound calm, to be sensible. I nodded solemnly. "Yeah."

She laughed dryly. "I really shouldn't be surprised." I blinked, shocked at her response. "Shouldn't you?" I asked nervously.

She shook her head. "No, not really," she answered. "I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later." "Was it?"

"Yeah," she continued. "What with how close we've been lately," she added, sounding almost as nervous as I just had, her eyes wide as she looked me up and down.

"Well, anyway…" Her face had lightened up a bit, her features had somewhat softened. "What's his name?" "Nick."

She smiled, as much as she could given the circumstances. "That's nice," she said softly. "Nick Temple," she said to herself.

"Nick Temple," I repeated her, as if trying it out for sound. The name rolled awkwardly off of my tongue, like I was speaking some other language. I tried it again, this time more slowly. "Nick…Temple…Maitland."

"Connor?" She looked curiously at me, her head tilted in confusion. "Hmmm?"

"I wonder what his middle name is," she said. She was leaning on my shoulder now, her body was pressed up against mine.

I shrugged. "Dunno if he's got one," I answered her.

She held back a laugh. "So I guess we'll have to give him one, yeah?" She turned her head to look up at me. "Any ideas?"

It's funny how quickly Abby could bounce back from everything. Just a few minutes ago, she had tears in her eyes, she wouldn't talk. And now she was almost completely back to normal.

I shook my head. "You?" She smiled at me, her eyes almost twinkled. "How about…Stephen?"

A slight smile spread across my face. "Stephen," I agreed.

"What's he look like?" she asked, having to place her hand on my chest to stable herself as she moved so that she could face me.

I laughed, feeling a bit more comfortable now, putting my arm around her. "Just like-Well-" "Just like you?" "Yeah."

She smiled, as if trying to imagine it. "But he had your eyes." "You mean has?" "Yeah."

"Connor?" She looked away again, nervously tracing the fingers of her free hand down the seam of my pants leg. "Hmmm?"

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she forced herself to look back up at me. Her hand rested on my knee. "Are you happy?"

I nodded. "I think so," I answered, though I wasn't entirely sure if she was. She was smiling, laughing, acting as if nothing at all had happened, but she still had that look in her eye. "Are you?"

There. I had done it. I had asked the question that had been on my mind ever since I had first told her, first seen her reaction. And I still dreaded the answer.


	14. Something Else

She was shaking her head. Oh my god, she was shaking her head.

No, she wasn't happy. She never could, never would be.

So I guess this meant she regretted it. Regretted me. Regretted that night in August. She probably just thought of me as some horrible mistake. Except this mistake actually had consequences.

Christ. Was it really that horrible to have slept with Connor Temple?

"I'm not sure," she finally answered. "Do you want me to be?" She sat up and watched me, waited for my answer.

I couldn't lie to her, she wouldn't be lying to me, not in these circumstances. "Yes, Abby, I do."

She smiled, taking my hand gently in hers. "Then, yeah, I am."

I shook my head. It wasn't good enough. She was only telling me what I wanted to hear. "Abby, you don't have to do this for-"

"I'm not doing this for you, Connor." She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me."

I tried to smile, pulling her closer to me, into a hug.

"It'll all be alright soon, Connor," she told me, whispering it in my ear and giving me a peck on the cheek. "You'll see." I didn't answer, I just pulled my arms tighter around her, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair, enjoying her warmth, enjoying just having her next to me.

She moved back, away from me. And just stared at me. Just stared, like she was waiting on something. "There's something else, isn't there?"

God. She must have noticed my silence when she said that, it was like she knew I couldn't believe her, no matter how hard I tried, no matter ho much I wanted to.

"Answer me, Connor." She was looking down at the ground again. "There's something else, isn't there?"

I had thought about it, lying to her. It was just one of two choices, either lie to her and say no, or be honest, do the right thing, and tell her the truth by saying yes. Lying would certainly be the easier of the two, just a quick "No, there's not, I'm fine," and it would all be over.

But then again, it would also bring guilt. And I knew that I would be regretting it the moment she dropped the subject.

So I had finally decided against it. After an abnormally, I told the truth, and said, almost shamefully, "Yeah, Abby, there is something else."


	15. Coming Clean

Here you go, the last three chapters! Thanks for asking for it you guys, you really motivate me...don't know if I could do without you! Enjoy!

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She blinked, her eyes growing wide again as she reached up to tentatively run her fingers through my hair. "What is it?"

"Abby, it's- It's nothing, really," I started. "It's stupid. Really, it's nothing to-" "Connor, please."

She looked so desperate, so… I didn't want to say she looked scared, but there was no other way to describe that look on her face.

I had to look away from her, I couldn't look into her eyes right now. "Abby, Nick said that something…happened…to me…" I waited for a reaction from her, even though I didn't bother turning back towards her. It's not like I would need to.

"Something like what?" She was loud, panicked, next to me. Her hand, which had previously just been gently holding my arm, now gripped it, far too tightly, her nails dug into my skin like claws. "What do you mean 'something happened'?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. He wouldn't tell me," I said softly, looking over at her. She just stared blankly at me. "How do you not know? You have to-"

"I don't Abby. I don't know. He wouldn't tell me," I repeated.

She shook her head, clearly confused. "Why wouldn't he tell you?"

"Christ, Abby, because he didn't know either," I said, more harshly than I had originally intended. She shrank back, looking nervously at me. "Because you wouldn't tell him," I added.


	16. Promises

"I would-You know I- I would tell him," Abby said quietly.

She was finally talking again now, after just sitting, stunned, next to me, for probably ten minutes after I had told her.

"I know, Abby, I know you would," I agreed with her, talking in a hushed voice, as if she was a child I was trying to get to sleep.

I held her, my arms around her protectively, rocking her slightly in an attempt to comfort her. I kissed the top of her head, she looked sorrowfully up at me.

Her eyes were wet with tears again. "I-I couldn't just…forget about you, if-if you…" She trailed off, but I still knew, almost too well, exactly what she meant.

"If I died," I finished for her, watching as she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Don't, Connor, please don't say that," she said softly. "Or just…don't say it like it's nothing, like it wouldn't matter…please."

I cupped my hands around her perfect face, stroking her cheek, wiping her tears, with my thumb. "I'm not going anywhere."

She shook her head again. "That's just it. You won't have a choice."

I kept my hands steady on either side of her face, waited until she let her eyes come up to meet mine. "Abby," I started, having to swallow before I let myself continue. "I love you. I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded reluctantly, giving a half-hearted smile. "You promise?"

I repeated her actions, nodding and smiling back at her. "I promise." "Okay, Connor."

"I'm not going to leave you," I repeated. "I promise. I'm not leaving you, Abby."

She leaned forward, pressed her forehead against mine. "Thank you," she said softly, taking my hands in hers and holding them, just holding them, just holding them, in between the two of us, her fingers laced delicately through mine.

I allowed my lips to meet hers, ever-so-gently, carefully, still halfway expecting her to back up, to move away from me. She didn't. And I realised that she wasn't going to as she squeezed my hand, tighter, tighter, as if urging me to go on.

I recognised the salty taste of her tears, and found myself wishing, just wishing, that this could be under some different circumstances.

Some other circumstances, where Abby hadn't just been crying, where I hadn't just been stumbling, choking on my words, trying to find the best way to tell her that our future son had said something horrible was going to happen to me.

Some other circumstances, where Abby and I didn't have any worries, concerns, or problems.

And where even bigger problems didn't lay up ahead.


	17. Daydreams

We were on a beach. The smell of the ocean hung in the air, salty but at the same time calming, comforting.

I knew this was a dream, it had to be. There was no way it could be real.

Taking a quick look around myself, I realised that no, we weren't actually on a beach.

We were in a room, a room that looked very much like the room I slept in at Abby's flat. The open window looked out on a beach, the bright sun bathed the floorboards in light.

Abby sat next to me again, on a bed that looked eerily like mine. No, it didn't just look like my bed. It was my bed.

The sun gave her a backlight, made her hair glow. And she was smiling.

I loved it when she smiled, I always had. Her eyes would light up, like a little kid's.

She looked so beautiful when she smiled. Well, she didn't need any help in that area anyway, but when she smiled, she looked even more beautiful.

"You're okay?" She searched my face for signs that something was wrong, reaching up to run her hand along the side of my cheek.

I nodded. "Yeah, I-I think so," I answered her, watching as she started grinning, laughing, when she saw the stunned, bewildered look on my face. "Good."

She came closer to kiss me again, her hands, one resting gently on the back of my neck, the other anchoring itself in my tangled hair, cold against my skin.

This time I could actually enjoy it, I didn't have to worry about her still being too emotionally fragile. I slid my arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me, so that there was no space left between us.

She gave a little giggle, her eyes momentarily lit up by surprise.

My other hand moved slowly up her thigh, her warmth pressing up against my rough hand.

She pulled away with a start, immediately placing her hands over her stomach. Shame. I had really been enjoying that. "Connor?" Oh my god. Something was wrong.

"What? What was it?" I asked her, my voice sounding rushed and panicked.

She was smiling again, her grin growing wider and wider. "He just kicked."

I stared stupidly at her. How? How had he just kicked? She didn't even look pregnant, for Christ's sake. If she hadn't just said that, I would've had no idea. "Really?"

She nodded, her face lit up. "Yeah, you didn't feel it? Just now, he-" She winced. "He kicks hard."

"Again?" She nodded. "Again," she repeated me, taking my hands and lifting up her shirt to put them on her stomach.

I felt it now, a slight bulge. She couldn't be more than two or three months pregnant, at the most.

And yes, I knew that, at two or three months, kicking should not be normal.

But, after all, this was a dream, and anything could happen in dreams, right?

Sure enough, I did feel a light bump, a little tap, against my hand. I started grinning. "Was that him?"

She laughed, looking down at my hands. "Yeah, it was. You felt it this time?"

I nodded, silently waiting for him to kick again. I waited, waited…and didn't feel anything. I shrugged. "Guess he's done."

Abby laughed again next to me. "Guess so," she agreed, picking at my bed sheets. The bed wasn't made, it never was, but she didn't seem to mind.

I looked up at her, still grinning stupidly at her. "We're not, I hope," I said, even though it came out sounding more like a question.

A mischievous smile started to creep and make its way across her face. "Not even close."

She moved herself closer to me, this time putting her hands on my knees.

I didn't need to follow her lead anymore, I was kissing her now, wrapping my arms around her, keeping her tight, close to me.

Her hands went slowly up, up my thighs, over my stomach and chest, unintentionally taking my shirt with them, and now rested on my shoulders.

_Ring, ring._ My mobile sat on the dresser on the other side of the room. I don't know how I knew this, but I did.

I glanced over at the dresser. Yep, it was my mobile, its screen lit up with the name and number of whoever was calling. "Should I get it?" "No." "Mmkay." Who was I to object?

"No, but- what if it's important?" I asked, watching as she rolled her eyes and bit her lip. "They'll leave a message."

I started to get up, before Abby took my hand and pulled me back down onto the bed. "Connor, please, just stay here," she said, sounding almost desperate.

I just looked at her, and stared…and stared, into her eyes. I was getting lost in them again. "Mmkay."

And now I knew. Now I knew that no matter what it took, how hard it was, I was going to do just that.

I was going to stay…with Abby, with Nick. No matter what, I was going to stay with them.

Because now, I wasn't just living for Connor Temple anymore. I was living for the Temple-Maitlands. Plural.


End file.
